Rising Beauty
by Imped
Summary: Thrown into a world ruled by blood, will she find her place; or lose herself forever?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Rain pattered against the glass, icy rivers meandering and looping in an endless cycle, the hazy mist clung to the earth, ghostly tendrils gliding softly, almost a caress; desperate and deathly.

It was on nights like these that I could be still, the night air was fresh and crisp, damp, calming... but tonight, there was a strange tension, like a taught wire, straining, and with the right pressure, ready to snap.

'It's like they are waiting for something', I murmured to the empty room, I surveyed the shadows, the empty corners and dusty walls... home, as I liked to call it, a hollow shell of a house, it's stagnant walls cloyed the air with the stench of dampness, of decay and past anguish.

I laughed softly, 'But you're just a wall', I shifted from my perch by the window, crossing the room and hesitantly lay my hand on the wall, 'Just a wall...', a strange melancholy crept through me, and I sighed... when would it stop?

I glared half heartedly, 'I have enough negative emotions as it is, I don't need you making it worse.'

Great, talking to walls now, I seriously need my head looked at...

A quick glance out the window told me that the rain had stopped, or at least receded to a steady trickle, I decided a walk would clear my head and mabye shake the gloom away. Grabbing my coat, I raced down the stairs and through the kitchen, apparently we were having some kind of stew tonight, shredded carrot and bits of potato littered the floor, mum always left a mess after cooking, even when she makes cereal!

As I attempted to manouver through the vegetable minefield, a tan head suddenly pops through the door.

'Wah!', startled, I slipped on a rogue potato skin, 'Ugh...'

A loud laugh distracts me from comforting my poor, abused bottom, 'It wasn't that funny, I could have been seriously hurt! Stupid potato...' I grumbled.

'Now, now... potatoes have feelings to you know.', she teased, 'It didn't ask to be stepped on.' I staggered to my feet, trying to salvage what was left of my dignity, 'Well, it hardly asked to be sliced and diced either, you really could be a little tidier about these things!'

The look of hurt that crossed her face made me inwardly wince, I had been a little sharper than nessessary, 'I'm going out for a walk, when will dinner be ready?'

Quickly brushing it off, she gave me a small smile and said, 'In about fifteen minutes, give or take, so don't wander far or it'll get cold.', I grimaced, cold stew was disgusting... thick and lumpy, like something you would feed a pig (not that I had actually tasted pig food!) and with the microwave busted, I would have to choose between a long night of complaining stomach, or pig slop.

'Don't worry, I won't be long!', as I strode towards the door I turned to wave, and froze, she looked close to tears, worry in her face making her look years older.

'Um.. mum?', I stood hesitantly, unsure, 'Is everything ok?', I could almost smell her agitation, see her struggle with the overwhelming emotions that seemed to radiate from her hunched form, 'Mum, please...'

Suddenly, she snapped upright, stiffly wrapping her arms around me, 'I'm fine... just... be careful, Ok?', I felt her iron grip tighten almost painfully, and I felt fear lance through my spine, I gave her an uneasy smile, what caused this change?

'I'm only going for a stroll', I reassured, a little confused 'I promise i'll come home for dinner, don't worry so much.', gently, I prised her arms from my waist, and backed away.

'A promise... yes, a promise.', she smiled weakly, drained, arms falling limply to her sides, 'I guess i'm just a little tense...', she turned towards the cooker, suddenly oblivious to my presence.

I scrambled towards the door as discretely as possible, trying to avoid another soppy episode, snatching my bag off the hanger as I burst out into the night, a dark blur disapearing into the curtain of rain... as the cool wind washed over my flushed skin I began to relax, breathing a sigh of relief I began to move purposely towards the trees, seeking respite in the leafy haven.

My brain swirled, a cataclysm of all too familiar feelings, a cocktail of frustration, denial, anger, guilt and a passive acceptance that nothing would change, but most of all, fear. Fear for my mother, myself and the fear that one day, the dam would break; that the fragile, miniscule piece of normality, our family, would be torn apart.

How long would I last?

My brother left only a few years ago, he nearly broke under the strain, struggling with trying to support a growing teenager, his job at the transport company and my mothers unpredictable -often violent- nature, I should have noticed the signs, the evidence that he was fading away, becoming detached from me, from _us_. Mabye I chose not to see it, see how broken, how irrepairably shattered our bonds had become; but it still hurt.

When he suddenly dissapeared, all those years ago, leaving nothing but a note; a crude, scribbled apology on a _sticky note _of all things!, I had felt myself shatter... emotions, bonds, they meant so much to me... he left, just like my friends, one by one they walked out of my life; it wasn't enough for them, I wasn't enough... not even for my own brother!

Enraged, I gave a muffled scream, punching the side of a tree.

A dull, throbbing pain pulses steadily through my arm, curiously, I inspect my hand, watching the blood seep through torn skin with a calm facination, I was so fixated on my hand that at first, I failed to notice the spike of cold, thickening mist dragging itself along the ground, steadily enveloping the small clearing I had occupied.

Pulling my arms tighter against my body, I began to head home, only to realise that I didn't know which way home was!

Fear uncoiled itself in my stomach, I whirled around, getting more and more distressed, as I came to the conclusion that I was lost. 'Ok, calm down... I just need to find the oak, then it's a straight path home.', reassured, as I have a good sense of direction, almost instinctive, as my brother used to say, that drew me home.

But as the minutes ticked by, I was getting nowhere, the forest seemed to close in, and the pull of home was dull, confused... garbled like the white noise that comes from the radio, when I was younger, I would listen to it and believe that I could hear the voices of many chattering people, sometimes I would even hear a clear voice, with a cryptic message from beyond the grave... advertising cheap mattresses, cause vengful spirits need jobs too!

The tension was almost tangible now, heavy and thick, like a huge steel blanket threatening to crush me underneath, I snickered slightly at the image. 'It's so... quiet.', The forest was still.

No chirping, or rustling. Or the telltale murmur of the nearby stream that I used to play by. It was like the sounds of the night were absorbed, muffled by the un-naturally dense mist and it was unsettling. For the first time I became fully aware of my surroundings, only to feel nothing... like I was truly alone, and it was terrifying. I was at the mercy of my mind, which had a tendency to be sadistic.

Something flickered at the corner of my eye, startled, I tensed, swinging round to see empty space.

'It was just my damn imagi-', suddenly, something flashed before me wrenching me towards the centre of the clearing. Towards the darkness, a vast swirling mist of black smog that pulled me closer. (Jeesh, was I blind or something?)

With a strangled cry, I fell through the darkness; my mouth opened in a soundless scream as my vision blurred, I slipped into a sweet oblivion.

~Thank you for taking the time to read this. I'll admit, i'm not a skilled writer; far from it! But I do enjoy a new challenge, I want to improve, so please don't hesitate to comment, or point out any errors - I'd be very grateful for the advice!~


	2. Chapter 2

Heat.

Thick waves of dry, unforgiving heat that rolled across the land, turning it into a huge desolate crucible; but the product was impure.

The girl dragged herself forward, step by step, one foot, another stumbling motion with a stunted motion; she had no direction, but the desperation pushed her onwards, the realisation that her situation was practically hopeless, that her death was near inevitable, was squashed beneath the hope that mabye, somehow she would come out alive - if not a little crispy.

A tounge rasped against chapped lips, her eyes wandering for a moment as she scanned the horizon for any indication of civilisation, or a vending machine; heck, she'd even drink cactus juice if there was actually any plant life at all, didn't deserts have cactuses? Apparently not.

"Mabye I should have brought my jacket, it would have made a great parasol...", she groaned, as the the sun bore down on her head, "Damn it, it just seemed so... useless."

When she had finally regained conciousness, the first thing she noticed was the heat, and the intensely bright sun, so, the first thing she did was shed her sweaty, bulky clothes designed for 'optimum insulation' as her mother had said, winters at her house could be bracing to say the least, and summers rarely topped 12 degrees!

Anyway, confused and disorientated, the many practical uses that a jacket can have in the desert really didn't occur to her.

"Damn it, how could I be so stupid?", she had never used a tanning booth, unlike her friends -and mother- who were sun worshippers, priding themselves on their perfect bronze complextions... they baked themselves religiously, but despite the cajouling, encouragment, and occasional 'ambush and kidnap' attempts, she had never joined their cult. Now, she was stuck in this oversized sandbox, her soft, virgin skin rapidly being turned a healthy red.

Trudging through the sand, she clutched her bag reassuring herself that it was still there, everything important she had owned lay in that bag; an old plushie that had belonged to her grandmother, her ipod, bits and pieces from the recent dressup party (As much as she loathed parties, she would never miss a chance to dress up) and some food, the chocolate was unsalvagable though. It was all she had left of her home, and she would rather die than leave it behind.

Wearily running her fingers through her hair, she tried to make sense of her predicament. Where in the world was she? How exactly did she get here? More importantly, how did she get _out_ of here, wherever here was? From the looks of things, she was trapped in a gritty deathtrap, flat, empty horizon as far as the eye could see, no refreshing green adorned the dunes, only the malignant glare of the sun. Hitching her bag higher across her shoulder, she sent a glare at the evil orb before continuing on her torturous way... there was still a chance, no matter how bleak the horizon seemed, no matter how vast and empty, the desert couldn't go on for ever; No, she would not die here!

Three days.

Three days of walking, stumbling across this damned wasteland that seemed to stretch on forever, her throat parched, dusty and raw from the scorching wind that swept up her hair, clawed at her sensitive, reddened skin, her face felt tight and itchy, a sensation similar to insects creeping across her skin. The only respite came at dusk, when she could rest in the cool breeze, then came the nightly freeze, 'Another practical use for a jacket in a desert', she had thought at the time.

Miles she had walked, with no sign of anything _alive, _just sand. The fear gripped her in a stranglehold and refused to let go. She was alone again, and the realisation of this pitched her into despair, the certainty that she was on a journey to her end, isolated and with no reason. Slowly, but certainly, that tiny seed of hope was being drowned in the bleakness that was steadily consuming her.

.

It was midday in Suna, the golden dunes cresting gently against the azure sky, the true nature of this harsh enviroment displayed in a glorious fashion. Perched on a dune peak, lost in thought, was a slim boy, his hair a shock of vibrant red; a slight frown adorned his usually stoic face, a slight crease between his (Non-existent) eyebrows. Despite the blistering midday heat, he seemed comfortable, accustomed to the year round sunshine. He gazed out into the distance, head tilted slightly, as if he was listening intently... suddenly, the sand shifted around him.

He raised his left hand in a subtle motion, smooth and graceful like a dancer, letting his eyelids shut; he was completly focused.

"GAARA!"

The owner of the voice froze as they fell victim to an intense glare that would have sent a demon screaming to the pits of hell, begging for mercy.

"I'm right here Kankuro, you don't need to shout.", he said, resting long pale fingers on his temple, attempting to soothe a 'Kankuro induced' migrane.

"Yeah, but you never listen when I try to talk to you normally...", The older boy smirked, stretching his painted lips into an almost feral grin, "Honestly, lil' bro, does your sand armour cover your ears as well?"

"Kankuro, If you don't stop acting like such a brat I am gonna shove one of your puppets so far up your ass you'll be spitting splinters indefinetely.", a flushed, irritated blonde appeared next to Kankuro, "Why I have to babysit you, when I could be at home _sleeping_ is beyond me!", She huffed moodily, stalking past a suddenly subdued Kankuro.

Gaara sighed, why couldn't he feed his siblings to the sand again?

"So, what did you hear?", Gaara turned to look into his sisters serious brown eyes, despite her shortcomings (Violent tendencies) she was a reliable person, her ability to read people was uncanny, even for a ninja.

"The desert is restless, more so than usual.", he spoke softly, feeling the tense vibrations of the sand beneath him.

"Oh, sure, you talk to the homicidal blonde...", Kankuro mumbled.

"What was that?", the brunnette found himself pinned by two deadly stares, he shivered at the killer intent he found in both, sweat dripping from his brow. Said homicidal blonde raised an eyebrow in a mock question.

"Ummm...", he practically whimpered under the intesity of that glare, but thankfully Gaara stepped in to save his (manly) pride as a shinobi.

"Temari...", he spoke softly, urgency underlined the tone, "We have more important things to consider, like our mission; or have you both forgotten already?"

Both of the bickering siblings became silent at his words, he was right, they had to be alert, the life of a shinobi was unpredictable; danger lurked everywhere, especially when you were in the company of the leader of a village. Temari had a foreboding feeling, Gaara was rarely catious, very few projectiles could pierce his shield so he didn't have to worry about sneak attacks. 'Must be nice to have the ultimate defense', she thought grudgingly, 'He hardly has to move at all when he fights, in fact, unless he is killing, he finds spars boring'. The fact that Gaara had his hackles up worried her, they had been traversing the desert for nearly a week and they were in their element -Gaara especially- it had taken it's toll, they were tired, and in sore need of a bath; not any condition to fight a horde of enemy ninja, unless they planned to knock them out with Kankuro's stench.

"Where is it coming from?", she inquired, if the disturbance was too far away they would have to return to Suna and send another team to investigate.

"A few miles to the North...", he replied, unconsiously shifting his gourd, "I'll investigate, you two head back.", he dismissed them with a wave of his hand, and began following a small stream of sand that trickled lightly across the ground.

"Oh no, not this time, we're coming with you, right Kankuro?", Temari looked at him meaningfully, her eyes locked on to his stubbornly.

"Well... ", as he watched the silent battle proceed, both refusing to give in.

A small smile appeared on his lips. It was quite funny actually, Gaara knew they were tired, and so he wanted them to safely return home whilst he put himself at risk, his own brand of brotherly concern.

Meanwhile, Gaara was slowly losing the battle of wills. The redhead sighed, clenching his fists in frustration, didn't they realise that he was trying to protect them? Mabye that was the problem, Temari had seen through his plan, and seemingly uncaring attitude and now she was going to protest until she got her way. Well fine then, if they wanted to get themselves killed let them, see if he cared! He was going to do it himself some day anyway, so what difference did it make? It's not like he would miss their constant arguing, the way they always forced themselves on him, those little things that drove him back to the brink of insanity; Temari's cooking for example, the way she would cheerfully fix breakfast every morning whilst he and Kankuro shared that look of horror, or the way they would talk at the table, swapping meaningless words and stories, giving him fond smiles and making him feel included... wanted... yeah, who needed that?

He braced himself, ready to order them home despite their betrayed, hurt looks that he knew they would wear, when he saw the unshed tears in Temari's eyes.

"Please Gaara, I can't let you get yourself hurt again, we are finally a family... don't try to make us leave you.", She snifeled slightly, wiping her eyes, and raised herself up to meet his gaze, "Don't ask me to abandon my brother"

He looked from Temari, to Kankuro, then back.

"Fine", and continued north. Breathing a sigh of relief, Temari followed, a disgruntled Kankuro in tow. Gaara turned towards his siter and gave a faint smile.

"Just don't get in my way"

The first hallucination had hit her hard; small, sandy hued scorpions scuttling around her feet, stinging her legs, bathing in her blood as she kicked and screamed wildly. She had tried to run, her legs quivering beneath her, listless eyes darting around, towards unseen predators; blood dribbled from her mouth, from the tearing in her throat. Sand was caked along her body, seeping into raw sores where the abbrasive substance had rubbed away the skin, her feet cracking, bruised and blistered from the heat.

She had finally fallen, a broken doll; full of anguish, but the will to survive still lingered, even then. She began to drag herself along, at a painful crawl, doing her best to ignore the stings pain, her exaustion.

As the day passed by she relived her worst nightmares, saw shadows beneath doorways, dank walls that pulsated, closing in around her; as the cried and whimpered, primitive, pleading sounds, the world swam around her. As the darkness began to creep into her vision, she became aware that she was surrounded by her family and friends. Elated, she started towards them, she wasn't alone anymore! But they began to turn and leave, her mother, red hair and tanned skin, watched her, contempt on her face.

'You never could be like your brother', her mothers ghostly voice pierced her like a dagger, eyes hard and full of hate, 'It was your fault he left, that they all left... you are mean't to be alone.'

She reached out in a futile attempt to bring them back, "No, NO! Come back, please!", she sank to the ground sobbing, dry, violent sobs that wracked her slight frame, blood staining the ground beneath. She fought with the darkness, still defying death but her struggles were weak. She was going to die alone.

Realising this, she raised her head, trying to look skywards; if she was going to die, the last thing she saw would be the sunset, damn it.

But she never got the chance to savour her last breath, as a cloud of dust blocked out the sun, enveloping her body. She flattened herself to the ground, straining her eyes, she glimpsed a figure in the mist.

"Brother... you never left me", She smiled, once again letting the darkness consume her.

"How long do you think she was out here?", Temari kneeled by the unconsious girl, checking her vital signs.

"Nearly a week, if her condition is anything to go by", Kankuro replied shakily, "Even our best Shinobi would go mad after a few days here"

Gaara studied the girl thoughtfully, she was skinny, probably from lack of food and water, her long hair tangled, matted with blood and dirt, she was seriously burned, her skin obviously sensitive to the sun, all in all, she looked as if she had seen better days. But the question was, why was she here? She didn't have the typical build of a shinobi, or any of the telltale equipment, then again, neither did he... mabye she fought in a similar style? If so, where did she come from? There was no headband, or symbol, it made no sense... she could be a threat, in that case he would be better off leaving her here to die, she was already at deaths door. But he doubted it, she had chakra, but it was unrefined; raw, even. Besides, she was not the threat he had sensed, it was long gone, fleeing his presence like it had been stung.

"Come on, let's go home.", Temari stooped, carefully lifting the girl till she was cradled in her arms, "She dosen't have long, and we need to get back before the elders have a fit!"

"Are you sure, what if she's dangerous?", Kankuro eyed the limp body warily, "I don't want to leave her here, but still..."

"She's practically _dead_, Kankuro!", Temari scoffed, "Besides, Gaara would have killed her straight away if she was dangerous."

"She's right Kankuro, she is not the threat my sand sensed.", the redhead nodded at Temari, and began to gather sand at his feet.

"We need to get home quickly, or she will die.", With that, he raced towards his hometown, using his sand to propel him forwards.

"All right, let's get moving!", Holding the girl closer, Temari took off after her brother, leaving a trail of sand in her wake.

"Why do I get the feeling i'm going to regret this?", groaned Kankuro as he made his way home.

~I would like to thank my first reviewer, Monster Cookie, without her encouragment I would not have worked so hard! Her comments made me happy, so I decided to use one of her suggestions as a name, thank you again!~


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer ~ I do not own Naruto, or it's characters.

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><p>"We can't go on like this."<p>

Gaara sighed, brushing a strand of hair away from his face in frustration, sometimes being the village leader was... testing.

"The village is relying on us to keep up moral, especially after the invasion... and you picked now of all times to go missing?"

Kankuro watched as his little brother was lectured by a scrawny council man, it was amusing to say the least...

"Don't you think about the consequences? What if there was an attack, or crisis, we need you _here_; not prancing round the desert picking up strays!"

The man was fuming, face turning steadily read at Gaara's stoic indifference whilst Kankuro chuckled in the background.

"And to top it all off, you drag that desert rat back to the village and leave her unsupervised, without consulting the council; the elders are after your blood..."

Gaara gave a warning glare, leaving the man to sputter, "I can assure you, Daikon, the girl is harmless."

"How can you be so sure? She may not be a shinobi, but she could be a spy sent to infiltrate the village, and you just gave her a free ticket in!", spittle flew out his mouth with each word, much to Gaara's disgust.

Not that he showed it.

"If it's a question of trust, I will be willing to take full responsibility for her conduct."

"It's not trust that is the issue, it's a question of your judgement; she's a liability, one that we could do without, and -"

"Are you questioning my judgement?"

Kankuro felt his skin prickle, as Gaara took a step forward, his glacial eyes piercing the poor man as sharp as any kunai.

"I am the Kazekage.", his older brother couldn't help but snicker as the redhead assumed his trademark pose, arms folded and head held high, his posture gave the person a sense of being looked down upon, despite the others height.

Daikon cringed, as the full weight of the Kazekage's glower crushed him into submission... almost.

He visually shook his head, and stuttered out, "R-regardless, Kazekage-sama... the elders will see this as a lapse in judgement..."

"Do not forget that it was the elders who appointed me this position, if they don't believe I have the ability to make decisions for this village, then it is their judgement that is lacking."

His face was set in a tight line, scowl almost visible as irritation practically oozed out of each pore.

"...Forgive me, Kazekage-sama, I am merely concerned about the safety of our village.", he bowed stiffly, his face set and his back ridgid.

Flexing his legs, Kankuro pushed himself off the window and sauntered towards the bickering pair.

"If you are so worried about the girl, then why not have her watched?", he said with a lopsided grin, "I'm sure we can spare a shinobi or two, especially if it is the sanctity of our home at stake."

Looking flustered, the council man began to wringe his hands in obvious dismay, the puppeteer gave him a mock concerned glance.

"Or are we so weak, that we can't squeeze a few decent ninja from our ranks, even at the expense of our precious village?", there was a sarcastic edge to his voice, as his eyes glittered with mirth at the expense of the man before him.

"N-no... It shouldn't be a problem, i'm sure we can find someone suited to the task... after all... village security comes first...", he stammered.

"Well, since the elders seem to be so antsy about this whole affair, i'm sure they could lend us a couple of bodyguards?", he casually rocked on the balls of his feet, grinning like a cheshire cat

"W-well... I... um...", the man was choking on his words, sputtering wildly.

"I mean, it's not like they have a shortage or anything... what was it, seventeen jounins and four chuunin?", the man paled at his words, and Kankuro's grin, if it was possible, seemed to stretch further.

"Seems like overkill to me...", the purple faced man stretched, with his arms behind his head and sighed, "Well, it can't be helped... I guess i'll just have to take responsibility for this situation, since it was partly my fault anyway."

Gaara gave his brother a pointed look, "Kankuro, you have other responsibilities in the village, your ninja duties won't allow you to watch the girl full time."

"I can still take _some_ of the responsibility, besides, it's not like i'll be alone; i'll have our dearest sister helping right along with me!", he smirked, "Well, her and a few Anbu... can't take any chances, right Dai-kun?"

By this point the man was flustered beyond repair, his eyes twitching madly, veins throbbing on his forehead, and his hands clenched painfully at his side, deciding to cut him some slack, "Well, that solves that dilemma, you should go report our decision to the council... i'm sure your precious elders are just _dying _to know." Kankuro waved him off.

The man breathed a sigh of relief, scurrying away until...

"Oh and Daikon..."

He turned, painstakingly slow, meeting Kankuro's feral grin.

"For your information, we did not prance through the desert... we swaggered with manly pride, Temari included."

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><p>I itched all over, my limbs on fire; pricked with burning needles... I'm so tired, why can't I sleep?<p>

Through the suffocating darkness I hear noises, voices and unfamiliar sounds that set me on edge, could I be dead?

No, I fought too hard, for so long... God damn it, i'm too alive to be dead!

I came too far to give up now!

As I fight my way through the haze, sounds, voices filter through, I hear a small pulsing, the click of heeled shoe... I caught pieces of a conversation, but the words seem jumbled...

A sharp pain races through my arm and I am blinded by the glare of a light, i'm aware, and painfully awake.

People begin to rush in as I survey the room, I squint my eyes at the sudden activity, are these... nurses? doctors?

Taking in the sterile, bare walls... the rough, crisp white sheets that rub my tender skin, I can only assume I'm in a hospital, I wrinkle my nose up in disgust... well, only a hospital could smell so deceptive... ugh.

Ignoring the cloying smell of bleach, I test my dry throat... a bit sore but i'll live... wait.

I'll live... I actually survived!

'Take that fate, you can't bring me down with your impossibility and bleak outlooks!', I think, as I do a mental victory dance.

I feel the rather pained grin that threatens to split my skin open; ouch, I really need some aftersun, or skin cream... some water would be nice too!

"Excuse me", I rasped, grimacing at the sound of my torn throat, "Could I have a drink?"

The bustling women paused at my request, they looked confused... surely my voice wasn't _that_ bad?

Then, after a few moments, one cautiously approached me, she had a nice face, with warm brown eyes and a sweet smile... and she spoke to me.

Which would have been great if I could understand what she was saying!

What kind of language is that?

It's certainly not english, and come to think of it, the writing is different as well... squiggly symbols, kinda like chinese, or japanese?

Her writing is so graceful, it seems to flow across the page, I wish my handwriting was as beautiful as that, man, it sure would make a difference from my sloppy penwork... then again, my english tutor would have a heart attack if I suddenly wrote this well...

"Kita"

"Huh..?", I said elequently. Yes, that's me, intellegent, witty, can't put anything past me. Giant swirly vortexes of doom? Nah.

Waving arms caught my attention (Since they were perilously close to my face) as they gestured towards the nurse in my thoughts.

"Ki-ta.", she pointed a rather clean finger towards her face.

Oh... the name game, that I can understand... I put my hand on my chest and say (croak), "I'm Maria"

"Immaria", she smiled, as she held out a glass of water.

Well, it was a start.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer - I do not claim to own anything that is Naruto, only my original characters.

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><p>"So this is her?"<p>

"Yep"

"This is what the elders have been so worked up about?"

"Not much to look at, and from what I've been hearing she is incapable of speech."

They stood in the bustling hallway, by a private ward, peering in through the doorway at a rather bemused looking girl, garnering suspicious stares from the occasional nurse.

They payed no mind of course, warriors of their calibre were often treated with a certain distrust - it was a perk that comes with the title of Jounin, that, and a sweet new set of chakra imbued kunai - even their peers seemed to keep their distance nowadays, why should it be any different here?

Then again, they did look out of place in a hospital ward, a silent, ominous presence, both were cloaked from head to toe in dark cloth, a sharp contrast to the dusty white hallways filled with their twittering occupants that flitted about task after task with a familiar ease born of experience.

Yet even in the narrow space, there seemed to be an area around the two shinobi that was avoided, and you could hardly blame them... anyone brought up on the sand learned to keep a respectable distance from the resident ninja, it was a healthy habit to say the least, if not slightly irksome when one was inclined to purchase some sake from the local bar...

A drawer rattled, and the men shifted their attention to the room they were supposed to be guarding; as well as the occupant inside.

They caught a glimpse of the girl, as she struggled back to her bedside, obviously trying for stealth and failing entirely as her long scraggly limbs seemed to twist and tangle in a complicated dance until she was forced to clutch the railings of her bed for support, sweat dripping from her brow... it was rather pathetic really, or so the younger man thought.

"Hmph... how could such a scrawny thing cause so much trouble?", he wrinkled his nose up, in an expression of distaste, surely this little waif should have been cast out into the dunes by now?

The older man watched the girl's futile efforts to return to her bed with an impassionate air, it was none of his business what the little pest did, as long as she didn't try to escape, he only had to watch her... besides, it was her own fault for getting into that situation, as weak as she was; in this world, the weak perished and so the weak were worthless.

He wouldn't waste any effort on such a pointless task.

"Hey, what the hell are you doing now?"

His younger partner had been trying to spy on the hapless girl, eagerly craning his head round the door only to be met with a whirlwind of fiery fury that was the resident head nurse, Tomochi Kita.

"What the...?", startled, the man landed on the floor with an satisfying thump, the wind knocked from him in an undignified whoosh of air.

"Of all the crap you've pulled over the years, this has to be the most disgusting... ogling a client?", She loomed over his trembling form, eyes burning with righteous fury, "A vulnerable, sick little girl... she's scared to death as it is, do you know how long it took to get her to trust us?"

"Well... you see...", he stammered, with a sheepish smile.

This, it seemed, only incited her anger further.

"No, I'm sick of the excuses, the oh-so-innocent expressions and the ridiculous lies!", her voice had gradually deepened, carrying an underlying menace that promised pain, and lots of it, " Damn it, Loka, if you keep on like this, you'll be demoted and I sure as hell won't be there on the sidelines to save your ass – I'll be waving my uniform like a banner, cheering them on!"

The older man let out a suppressed groan as a mischievous glint appeared in Loka's eye...

"So I would get to see you in your underwear?", he said with mock sincerity, "Well then, maybe getting demoted is worth the effort, but Kita – sempai... I would never have thought that you of all people would be such a loose woman; I'm shocked and astounded, truly disappointed."

The nurses eyes flashed, and a certain wayward ninja found himself dangling inches away from a pair of rather pointy incisors... yet, his partner noted the self-satisfied grin he wore.

"Say just one more thing... I dare you.", she hissed through gritted teeth.

"W - ouldn't dream... of it, sempai.", he choked out.

Was there any point in interfering? Sure, it would be a pain to break in a new partner but still...

"_Umm..._", a tentative voice reached out, freezing everyone in place, "_Is everything alright_?"


End file.
